You Got My Eyes
by Orsvi
Summary: When Ron Weasley creates a plan to get revenge on Draco Malfoy by force-feeding him Veritaserum, the secrets that Ron learns are... unexpected, to say in the least. [HP/DM] SLASH (Mostly clean content)
1. Veritaserum

**Chapter One: Veritaserum**

Ron just couldn't stand Malfoy anymore, not after everything he'd done. He wouldn't stand it any longer.

( _Earlier that morning_ )

 _Ron and Harry were making their way down to the library, discussing Ron's breakup with Hermione the night before. Hermione had said that she still loved Ron, just not in... that sense. Somehow, the word had got out, and Ron had to endure many uncomfortable stares all day. He felt guilty for all the times he'd been jealous of everyone giving Harry their undivided attention; it was tiring, really._

 _As if Merlin himself crafted this day to bring Ron down, Malfoy appeared from around the corner of the hallway. He glanced at Harry, then quickly looked away, looking, if Ron didn't know any better, rather sheepish. His eyes landed on Ron, and a sneer quickly overshadowed that... odd... look._

 _Ron, already in a sour mood, sneered right back, and said, "Hey, Malfoy, I'd lay low if I were you, considering you're the reason that many children who should still be alive are dead." He was reminded of his dead brother, Fred, who was one amongst those who should still be living._

 _Malfoy looked stricken. His cool and aloof mask that he'd always maintained so well cracked, just for the smallest fraction of a second, but still long enough for Ron to notice._

 _"Ron," Harry warned as he took hold of Ron's arm, but Ron shook him off. He was tired of Malfoy believing he was superior, and if it came down to fighting, then so be it._

 _"Where's you're girlfriend, Weasley? I heard she got cold feet and dumped you. For the better, I think, since you are entirely worthless--" Ron started to lunge at him, but Harry immediately grabbed the back of his robes and dragged him off in the opposite direction of Malfoy. Damn him for being so noble._

 _When they turned the corner and had a safe enough distance between them and Malfoy, Ron turned to Harry, looking disgruntled. "I can't believe he would say that, after everything he's done!" Ron waited for Harry o agree with him, but instead Harry looked away uncertaintly, as if he was scared to say what he wanted. Then he spoke: "Well... you did say something to him first..."_

 _Ron looked at his best friend disbelievingly. "Why are you speaking on Malfoy's behalf?" Had Harry not heard what Draco sodding Malfoy, the disappointment to both sides of the war, had said? Harry met his gaze again, and spoke, "You told him to be responsible for the deaths of many, many people. From the look on his face, he probably does, to an extent, believe it."_

 _"And he should! It's his fault!" Ron whisper-yelled. Harry narrowed his eyes dangerously at him, and though Ron was much taller than Harry, he felt like he was much, much smaller, under the heavy narrowed gaze. Ron unknowingly took a step back._

 _"It's not his fault, it's Voldemort's fault. Voldemort killed them, not Malfoy. I know what it's like to carry that guilt." Harry's voice was scarily low. "The war is_ over."

 _Ron blinked, swallowed, then croaked, "Alright, mate, if you say so."_

 _But Ron was still fuming at Malfoy, regardless of what Harry thought._ _He wanted revenge on Malfoy, and revenge he would get._

Ron knew exactly what he was going to do. He was going to borrow Harry's invisibility cloak (without Harry's knowledge) and hide just outside the Slytherin dungeons after dinner. (He'd make sure to tell Hermione that he's in the library studying, of course.) He knew Malfoy always lingered behind until all of the other Slytherins disappeared into their dorms (the slimy got had no friends), so that just made it all the more easier for Ron.

He'd have the Marauders Map with him so he'd know exactly when Malfoy was nearing the dungeon. Then he'd cast a quick and quiet Body Binding curse on him and pull Malfoy under the Invisibility Cloak with himself. It'd be a bit uncomfortable, having Malfoy in such close proximity to him, but he supposed it'd be worth it, in the end.

He'd sneak Malfoy into the Room of Requirement, as it was practically abandoned since the D.A. parted ways, and force him to drink a small vile of Veritaserum that he'd kept from a detention with Snape. Then he'd proceed to ask Malfoy super personal questions and humiliate the hell out of the slimy git. The best part is, Malfoy could never tell anyone, because he'd be so worried that Ron would expose his secrets!

The thought made him smile. Malfoy would be wrapped around his finger. It was absolutely fool-proof.

Now, it sounded cruel, Ron knew that much, but really, in comparison to everything Malfoy's done over the years, this was nothing but a little... payback. Nothing's free in this world, after all.

Ron tapped his foot impatiently at his desk. Only two more hours until dinner...

Ron sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, staring directly at an oh-so-clueless Malfoy, watching his every movement. He couldn't help but feel strongly reminded of Harry, stalking Malfoy in sixth year.

Malfoy was staring down at his food, yet he avoided actually touching it as if it were the Plague. He looked to be... oh Merlin... brooding? Blimey, a Malfoy brooding! Now that's just embarrassing!

Ron had to be careful though, because it seemed every other minute he would glance up to where Ron was sitting. It took Ron a couple of times to figure out that Malfoy wasn't looking at him; no, instead, he was looking at Harry. Intently. And the weird thing was, it seemed Malfoy was staring at Harry with... longing, perhaps. It was quite unnerving, if you asked Ron.

For the entirety of dinner, Ron made sure to keep one eye on Malfoy at all times, though Hermione caught his eye occasionally, with a questioning look on her face.

It wasn't all that interesting, really. Malfoy would brood, then look at Harry, then sigh and go back to his brooding, and then repeat. It really was quite disturbing. What did Malfoy find so interesting about Harry? The slimy git was probably planning some stunt to perform on Harry. Either way, Ron would find out soon exactly what Malfoy was planning.

Dinner came to an end, and the students made their way out of the Great Hall and to their dorms. Well, all except Malfoy, who, as always, was lingering back as the students slowly cleared from the Great Hall. And still, he kept glancing at Harry, with the same longing expression. It was a mature and subtle expression, of course, but it was still there.

He caught Hermione's arm, told her that he was going to study in the library alone, swung his bag over his shoulder and dashed to the Slytherin dungeons.

He slipped into Myrtle's bathroom and dug in his bag for the Invisibility Cloak. He swung his bag back onto on his shoulders and pulled the Marauders Map out of his robes. He really hoped Harry wouldn't be too mad upon finding out that he used them without Harry's permission. He'd understand though, right? Of course he would. This is the last year to get some revenge on that poor-excuse-for-a-wizard Malfoy, before he was finally rid of him once and for all.

Just as he swung the Cloak over his shoulders and made his way to leave, Moaning Myrtle floated directly in front of his path. He couldn't upset the girl, she'd blow his cover!

"Oooohh," she cooed. "A new visitor! I haven't had a visitor in _ages,_ it gets so lonely in here!" She pouted, and then got way to close for Ron's comfort, and beamed down at him. "I remember you! You're a Weasley! I can tell by your _gorgeous_ red hair, and- oooh, those _adorable_ freckles! I remember your brothers, Fred and George. They were such sweethearts. They said they'd come back and visit me," she pouted, "but it's been _years!"_ Then, as if hell itself was descending, she did what she did best: Moan. Really loudly, and Ron jumped back in surprise.

"Look, Myrtle--"

"Oh please don't leave! It gets so _lonely_ in here!" She sobbed even louder. _Bloody hell,_ Ron thought, _no wonder no one visits her! One visit is more than enough!_

"Myrtle, I _promise_ I'll come back soon, but I really need to do something-" _Moan._ "And _please_ stop moaning!" He looked up at her with what he hoped was innocent and promising eyes. "I promise I'll come back soon and visit you, Mo-- Myrtle, but I _have_ to do something."

She hesitated at first, but then seemed to buy into it, because she was quieting down, and reluctantly moving out of his path.

"Oh, alright, as long as you come back soon." She smiled an overly sugary smile and moved out of the way. Ron took that opportunity and dashed out as quickly as humanly possible. He stole a quick glance at the Marauders Map. Just one hall away from him, out of sight, was the dot labeled "Draco Malfoy."

Ron, still hidden by the Invisibility Cloak, ran for the hall near the Dungeons, and began to pull out his wand to cast a quick Muffliato charm--

 _\--BOOM!_ Ron tripped and fell rather loudly right before he was able to cast the charm. It echoed. After a moment of holding his newly twisted ankle, he sat upright and checked the Marauders Map- the Draco Malfoy dot was still there, and was heading closer to the Ron Weasley dot.

The Cloak was still covering him, thank Dumbledore, because Malfoy appeared just around the corner. Ron stood deathly still, and didn't dare to breathe. He positioned his wand just right to where he would get the perfect angle to over-power his rival. Malfoy was right across from him now...

Ron seized the opportunity and whispered _Petrificus Totalus!_ causing Malfoy to freeze right in place. Ron grinned triumphantly as he limped over to Malfoy on his throbbing ankle, with one side of the Invisibility Cloak open.

Knowing that Malfoy could still see him perfectly, he threw a rude hand gesture his way, before casting a levitation charm on him. Ron may not be the best wizard on the planet, but he could pride himself in his levitation charms.

He draped the Cloak over himself and the now levitating Malfoy, directing them to the blank wall where the Room of Requirement would be summoned. As he approached, the door to the Room of Requirement slowly appeared, taking over a large portion of a used-to-be blank wall. The doors opened automatically, waiting for the two students to enter.

The room Ron conjured up was a small but comfortable one, about as big as Professor McGonnagal's office. There was a coffee table sitting in between two sitting chairs, and a fire place on the far side of the room. On the coffee table was one small shot glass, the one that Malfoy would be drinking the Truth Serum from. Ron nodded to himself in approval.

He directed himself and Malfoy into the room, and waited until the door closed behind them to take the Cloak off. He shot ropes from his wand- a cool spell that Hermione taught him to use in the battle- and tied Malfoy to a chair. He proceeded to pour the Veritaserum in the shot glass on the table and forced it into Malfoy's mouth. Once he was sure that some of it was swallowed, he sat in the chair across from where Malfoy sat and lifted the Body Binding curse off of him.

Malfoy jerked in the chair as if he'd been shocked, and then partially relaxed, as if trying to work out what had happened. Then he looked at Ron dead in the eye, with a face purple and contorted with pure, unadulterated rage. "You slimy, pathetic little bastard," he whispered. He didn't need to raise his voice, because there was still just as much venom. Ron didn't think he'd ever seen Malfoy _this_ angry before. Ron found himself inching back in his seat, until he remembered who was in control here.

"What is your full name?" Asked Ron.

Without hesitation, Malfoy answered, "Draco Lucius Malfoy." Then his eyes widened; he seemed to realize what the hell he'd just been forced to drink.

"What day is your birthday?"

"June 5th."

Ron smirked to himself in triumph. _This is going to be interesting._ Malfoy not only looked angrier than ever before, but he also looked quite terrified. He should be, really; Ron was in complete control, and Malfoy couldn't keep any secret of his to himself.

Malfoy kept his mouth shut, but there were already veins bulging on his neck and forehead.

Ron briefly went over what questions he should ask first, but found his mind strangely blank. He looked back up at Malfoy, who was looking anywhere but Ron. Ron decided he would just go on pure instinct.

He took a deep breath and spoke: "Why did you refuse to kill Dumbledore?"

Ron didn't even realize what he had asked until Malfoy began to respond.

"I'm too weak to murder anybody. Even though I disagreed with a lot of things Dumbledore thought, I didn't hate him. When he offered me help and protection, even though I had my wand pointed at him, threatening to kill him, I couldn't find it in myself to do it." Malfoy was visibly shaken and horrified with the words that had rolled off of his tongue. He looked at Ron and hissed, "I hate you," in such a snake-like manner Ron wouldn't have been suprised if he'd actually spoken Parcel-tongue.

And Malfoy, of course, was actually telling the truth. This brought Ron to his next question: "Why _do_ you hate me and Harry and Hermione so much?"

"I hate you. I don't hate Granger or Potter."

Ron blinked, and blinked again. He raised an eyebrow at Malfoy, as if to ask an unspoken question: 'What do you mean you don't hate Hermione or Harry?' But Malfoy wouldn't answer Ron unless the Veritaserum forced him to, of course. So he had to actually speak the question.

"What do you mean you don't hate Hermione or Harry?"

"I mean exactly what I said: I don't hate them."

Ron breathed out sharply in impatience. He would have to be even _more_ straight-forward with Malfoy, if he was going to get the git to speak. That would be easy, though, Ron reasoned. He just has to word his questions correctly.

"How do you feel about Hermione?"

Malfoy's eyes widened a bit; now that Ron looked at him, he looked a bit sick and sweat was starting to show on his face.

"I'm jealous of Granger."

Malfoy, jealous of Hermione? _That_ seemed unlikely. Although it did make sense that he would be jealous of the girl who made top-marks. Malfoy had to be telling the truth, and sometimes the truth was hard to believe. Ron knew that all too well. He nodded slowly before asking his next question: "How do you feel about Harry?"

Malfoy squirmed heavily in his chair, looked as far away from Ron as possible, and answered, to Ron's astonishment, "I fancy him." He continued to look away, seemingly more helpless and weaker than he'd looked even in the Feindfyre.

Ron gaped at him for a long time, his mouth hanging open, eyes wide, and head loosely hanging from his neck. Ron was... well, a lot. Saying he was shocked at Malfoy's words was like saying Voldemort was only a little bit scary. _Malfoy fancies Harry? No, Malfoy has got to be lying. Maybe he really_ is _faking, and didn't really drink the Veritaserum. There was no way that Malfoy really fancied Harry._

"What is the most embarrassing moment of your life?" Ron asked anxiously, checking to see if Malfoy would hesitate or show any sign of self-control.

"When Mad-Eye turned me into a ferret in fourth year." There was no a flicker of reluctance on Malfoy's features or eyes. He seemed to be completely honest, and did not hesitate to answer, just like one under Veritaserum would act. Ron's insides stirred, and he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. _Malfoy really is telling the truth. He really does fancy Harry._ He took a few deep breaths and tried to contain himself, while Malfoy stirred desperately in the ropes.

"Why do you fancy Harry?" was all Ron could manage to force out of himself; he could barely breathe, much less speak.

Malfoy had his face scrunched up; clearly he was not enjoying this one bit. But why should he? This couldn't be any easier to him than it was to Ron.

"Because of the way he looked the Dark Lord in the eye and didn't even flinch, and because of his courage, his determination, his skills at Quidditch, and the fact that he saved my life even though he hates me. I don't like that he hates me. He does hate me, doesn't he?" Ron felt a surge of sympathy wash over him from the vulnerability in Malfoy's voice, until Malfoy spoke, "Now let me out of these damn ropes, Weasley!" Malfoy looked to be _pleading_ now, but Ron couldn't even make a snarky comment to himself about Malfoy pleading, because his mind and logic and everything he knew about Malfoy had been chewed up and spit right back out in front of him, scattered in pieces that couldn't be repaired.

Malfoy, the woman-loving teenager, is a poof.

Malfoy, the rival of Harry Potter, fancies Harry.

Malfoy, the Huffelpuff hater, has a bit more Huffelpuff in him then he'd like to admit.

And at this moment, Malfoy, the calm, cool and contained Slytherin, was breaking down in front of Ron's very own eyes.

"Weasley, I swear on my fucking _life_ that I will seriously hurt you if you don't let me go!" The sound of Malfoy's shaky voice and the sight of sweat visibly _dripping_ from his face snapped Ron out of his daze. With shaky hands, he reached to grab Malfoy's wand from the pockets of the owner's robes. Malfoy jumped from the unexpected contact, and his eyes clouded with anxious worry. From this close up, Ron could clearly see each line of worry and fear etched on his features, and, even though there was poor lighting in the room, there seemed to be absolutely no blood left in Malfoy's sweat streaked face.

And Ron felt absolutely horrible.

Ron swallowed and cleared his throat, trying to pick up the pieces of his mind. "I'm taking your wand so you won't hex my bits off, Malfoy. Before I release you, I'd like to make a deal."

Malfoy, despite his not-very-well-hidden fear, glowered angrilly at Ron, but before he could say any actual protest, Ron cut him off. "If you don't mention me forcing you to drink Veritaserum to anyone, then I won't tell anyone about your little... infatuation with Harry. Now, if you _do_ decide to do what you do best and run your ignorant mouth, or bully me, Hermione, or Harry, I _promise you_ that everyone will know about your crush before you can say Dumbledore."

Malfoy blinked.

Ron blinked.

Neither of them knew Ron had that in him, and Ron felt unnerved at how _Slytherin_ he sounded just then.

It must have been the right thing to say, though, because Malfoy (though his face was a mixture of bone-white and cherry-red) simply nodded and looked away.

Ron Vanished the ropes and gave Malfoy back his wand, while pointing his own at Malfoy, right at the nape of his neck.

Without a word, Malfoy slipped out of the Room of Requirement, refusing to meet Ron's eyes. His body was trembling (and probably not because of the ropes that held him so tightly before) and the valley between his shoulder-blades on his back was drenched. In that last second that Ron saw him, Malfoy looked terrified and broken.

Ron waited a few moments before pulling on the Invisibility Cloak and walking back to the common room. As he walked the halls, he took a moment to actually _think_ about what Malfoy had said.

Draco Malfoy, former Death-Eater and Model Slytherin, fancied Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World.

Though Ron truly hated to admit it, he couldn't help but think that, in some ways, it made sense. It would certainly explain the longful glances that Malfoy cast at Harry _so frequently._ And they _had_ been obsessed with each other since first year...

 _Oh no._

Wait a minute. No. That couldn't be possible. There's no way in _Hell_ that Harry fancies Draco sodding Malfoy. Even if he _had_ been obsessed with Malfoy since first year, and had been keeping tabs on Malfoy's every movement, and even went as far as to risk his life to save Malfoy's when the git clearly didn't deserve it... Ron remembered the look of pure determination and fire (not the Feindfyre) inside of Harry's eyes, and how there was no room for protest when he shouted, "We have to save them!" and how he went for Malfoy instead of Crabbe and Goyle...

But, no, it can't be possible, he _couldn't_ fancy Malfoy, of all people...

Harry didn't seem to have much of an interest in girls, though...

He had to figure this out.

Sometime tomorrow, he decided, he would confront Hermione and tell her everything. Hermione said she still loved him, right? And she was smart... he would just have to leave out some... a lot... of details.

"Butter-scotch," he whispered to the Fat-Lady, and climbed in through the portrait hole with the Invisibility Cloak drawn across his shoulder. Hermione sat alone on the sofa, with a book in her lap. She looked at Ron and greeted him with a suspicious and disapproving look.

"Hello, Ronald."

"Hullo, 'Mione. How's that book going?"

"I went to the library earlier," she said, ignoring Ron's question. "I didn't see you, and I wanted to make sure you weren't doing anything _stupid_ like always, so I went to check the Marauders Map, only to discover it was gone. So that got me thinking: you were in a hurry to leave dinner, and you did seem distracted all through out dinner." She looked pointedly to the half-invisible cloak across his shoulder. "Nice Cloak you got there, Ron. It wouldn't be necessary to use in the library, would it?" She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "Where were you tonight?"

Ron blinked, surprised at himself for thinking he could possibly fool Hermione. He sighed and put his hands up in the air defeatedly.

"Look, 'Mione. It's been a really long night, and I just found something... completely baffling, and I _promise_ I will you _everything_ tomorrow, but I really need to get my head straight, because it's as if my mind's been chewed up and spit right back out."

Her suspicious look softened slightly, but she didn't say anything, willing Ron to go on further.

Ron sighed. "It has to do with Draco Malfoy."

Hermione nodded slowly, before smiling softly and turning her attention back to her book.

This was one of the many things Ron loved about Hermione; Hermione was always understanding, and never pressured someone into doing or admitting something they weren't ready for. Exactly the opposite of what Ron had done tonight.

As Ron climbed into bed and pulled the covers over himself, guilt and self-disgust and faint anger seemed to carry him away tonight.

Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy paced back and forth in the privacy of his dormitory, trying his best to calm down and willing himself not to lose all composure in worry of Harry Potter finding out and rejecting him. Again.

 **Well, that's my story so far. I'm thinking this will be a two-shot, but it may be a three-shot. The next chapter won't be from one character's point of view, but instead from multiple, switching back and forth.**

 ***If anyone wants to be my beta/editor, please tell me so in the reviews.**

 ***ALSO, if you would like to leave plot suggestions for OTHER stories you'd like me to write, feel free to do so. I already have a few plots in mind for the future. (Drarry and possibly potential Dramione.)**

 ***I am still writing Acid Rain, don't worry.**

 *** I apologize for any grammar/spelling errors, I am a ninth grade writer with no betas/editors.**

 **Leave reviews, I hoped you like this first one! Next chapter coming soon.**

 *** P.S. The story name is from a song I listened to while writing this, it's called Youth by Glass Animals.**


	2. Slughorn's Great Plan

**Chapter 2: Slughorn's Great Plan**

 **Draco:**

Draco approached the entrance to the crowded Great Hall, loud with conversation of Quidditch and gossip and what-not. He braces himself for all of that chatter to die and be replaced immediately by not-so-subtle whispers, for the Golden Trio's snickers to rip its way through the Hall and straight to Draco. Oh Merlin, his mother is sure to hear about his crush on Potter by now. What will she think? His father... Well, his father isn't here anymore.

He holds his breath as he lifts a shaky hand to open the entrance way. He holds his head high and enters...

The silence never comes. Nor does the gossip, or the whispers, or the snickers from the Gryffindor table. Everyone is still engaged in their meaningless conversations. Draco's heart-beat quickens in nervous anticipation, wondering if they just haven't noticed his presence yet. He quickens his pace and hurries over to his seat at the end of the Slytherin table.

As he sits down, he breaths out in relief: Weasley _hadn't_ told everyone in the castle. He couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed at how weak and insecure he had been. Once his heart calmed down, he helped himself to some eggs and a waffle, making sure to avoid looking at the Gryffindor table as he ate. He instead busied himself with keeping his eyes glued to the plate in front of him. Usually, in times like these, he would make conversation with his friends. But as they were all either dead, in Azkaban, or in a different country, his plate was his only comfort and distraction.

He thought about Crabbe and Goyle. Crabbe was dead, and Goyle was in Azkaban, now. Though they had been his longest friends, they weren't exactly the people Draco would've liked to confide in. No, Pansy had been the one he could casually talk too, and it didn't hurt that she was up for a few meaningless snogs. But she had left before fourth year, and frankly, he'd never really enjoyed those snogs in the slightest. Blaise was the one he could _really_ share personal things with. Blaise was the only one who knew that Draco was bent, for example. Blaise had been accepting and even offered the best advice he could give as a straight man. He still occasionally wrote to Blaise, but with Blaise attending Durmnstrang now, that left Draco alone, other than Theo Nott, who kept to himself. The only company in his midst was his plate.

Eventually, he allowed himself a quick glance to the Gryffindor table. As though his eyes were programmed to do so, they fell directly onto the Golden Trio, where his gaze locked with curious green eyes. Draco found himself making eye-contact with none other than Harry Potter.

 **Harry:**

Harry watches as Malfoy speed-walks to his seat, looking exhausted and pale (more so than usual). He stares intently as Malfoy sits alone and takes a few deep breaths, before lifting his shaky hand and helping himself to breakfast. Though Malfoy moved with his usual calm demeanor, anyone who was really looking could tell something was wrong with Malfoy. For one, because of his aforementioned pale skin and shaking body and for two, because the boy wouldn't look up from his plate. He looked alone and anxious and small and... different. But he also looked strong and independent and had no aura of arrogance, much different from his usual demeanor. Harry wasn't sure how to describe it, but something about Malfoy right now was almost... fascinating.

Then Malfoy looked up from his plate and his eyes bored directly into Harry's. They looked at each other for a long moment, and Harry could clearly see that Malfoy hadn't survived the war unscarred. Malfoy looked at Harry like a deer caught in the headlights, then averted his gaze back down to his plate and didn't look up again until the end of breakfast. This time, Malfoy was the _first_ person to exit.

What Harry failed to notice was how Ron was looking from Harry to Malfoy with a calculating expression throughout breakfast.

 **Ron:**

Contrary to what most people think, Ron Weasley is not oblivious. In fact, he can be pretty observant when he wants to be. That being said, it did not escape his notice that Malfoy looked quite pale and timid as he walked to his seat. He _also_ did not fail to notice Harry watching Malfoy intently with fascination playing gently on his features. What _did_ escape his notice, however, was Hermione watching Malfoy with intense curiousity.

 **Hermione:**

Hermione was practically _dying_ to know what Ron had found out about Malfoy. Typically, she would try her best to stay out of other people's business, but her curiosity really won her over. And seeing Malfoy staring at Harry like _that,_ then quickly looking back at his plate only instensified her dire need to know.

After breakfast, she pulled Ron to the side, telling Harry that she needed to speak to Ron and for him to go on. Harry merely raised an eyebrow, but he seemed too distracted by _something_ to care. So he nodded and went on to Transfiguration.

Once she was alone with Ron, she couldn't help it anymore, so she burst out with questions.

"What did you find out last night? What happened? Does it have something to do with why Malfoy was so _odd_ this morning? What did you _do?_ Come on, Ron, _tell me!"_

Ron only gaped at her, so Hermione shook his shoulders, rather harder than she had intended, but she _needed_ to know!

" _Okay, okay!_ Jeez, lady, calm down!" Hermione fixed him an impatient glare, urging him to go on, and so he did.

Ron hastily filled her in with rather spread-out details of last night, leaving Hermione quite confused.

"So, what you're saying is..." Hermione trailed off, still trying to comprehend what Ron had just shared with her.

"That Malfoy fancies Harry? Yeah, that's _exactly_ what I'm saying!"

"And you know he wasn't lying, because you force-fed him Veritaserum?"

"Yep."

"And that's why he was all out of sorts this morning?"

"Exactly."

"And... And you _force-fed him Veritaserum?"_ Even though Hermione was as confused and bewildered as she was right now, she could still be angry at Ron for doing such a horrible and _illegal_ thing.

Ron merely nodded.

"So Malfoy really _does_ fancy Harry!"

Ron looked impatient now. "That's what I _said,_ wasn't it?"

Hermione just nodded, unable to say anymore; she knew Ron was telling the truth; it was just so... _absurd!_ Well... then again... Malfoy _was_ quite obsessed with fighting with Harry or making fun of him every chance he got. And she _had_ caught Malfoy looking at Harry without pure loathing in his eyes quite a bit. She'd also caught Harry doing the exact same thing, now that she thought about it...

 _Oh, I'm definitely looking into this._

 **Slughorn:**

This year, Horace Slughorn had a plan. He was going to repair as many silly school-rivalries and anything along those lines as he could, in honor of Albus Dumbledore.

At the beginning of the year, Horace had _greatly_ encouraged that the Gryffindors and Slytherins partner together. And what did they do? They segregated themselves. Horace shouldn't have been so naïve as to think that they would listen to him. And now, he was going to take it upon himself to _end_ these rivalries, starting with the 7th and 8th year Gryffindors and Slytherins.

 _This is going to be interesting,_ he thought.

 **Draco:**

Draco had been all out of sorts since this morning, when he and Potter had made eye contact from across the Great Hall. At that short moment of eye contact, all of Draco's insecurities came rushing back. _Had Weasley told him? Did he really go so low as to tell Potter? What is he going to do the next time that he sees me?_ For the first time in a long time, Draco was absolutely _dreading_ Potions with the 7th and 8th year Gryffindors and Slytherins. But at least Slughorn had let him partner up with Nott, though he didn't seem to happy about it. He had strongly encouraged partner-ship between the two houses, so when everyone went with the typical segregation between the Slytherin and Gryffindor houses, Slughorn was a less than happy.

As he entered Potions, Slughorn greeted him with a wide grin. Draco politely nodded back, confused on why the Potions Master looked so happy to see him.

"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy! Oh, do I have some plans for this class today!" Draco raised an eyebrow at Slughorn, urging him to go on. "What are we doing today, Professor?" Slughorn's smile widened more than Draco would've thought possible. He must have been _really_ excited about whatever he was 'planning'.

"Let's wait for the rest of the class to arrive and I'll tell you, eh?" Draco nodded in response, already setting up his cauldron. But Slughorn interrupted and said, "You might want to wait before setting up your area, Mr. Malfoy. Things are going to be _different."_ Draco pursed his lips in a confused expression, but packed his cauldron back up when the man pointedly looked at it.

No more than a few minutes later, a steady stream of students filled the classroom, each seemingly confused on why they couldn't set up their cauldron. When the last of the students (Potter and Weasley, of course) had finally arrived, Slughorn cleared his throat and stood at the front of the classroom.

"Good morning, seventh and eighth years!" Some scattered students hummed in polite response. "Today will be different from what you are used too. I will be assigning each one of you to one of the different house. The person in which I assign you to will be your partner for the rest of the year, no matter your history." The classroom stayed silent, clearly eerie about being assigned to the opposite house. "Let's begin, shall we?" The Potions Master pointed to the desk at the front-right of the class. "Padma Patil, Corey Langford." He read more names off of the list as he went down the isles, completely unaware of the glares students shot him as he walked past.

Weasley was partnered with a flirty 7th year Slytherin by the name of Laney Woran; Granger was partnered with Theodore Nott, and the list went on and so forth, until he stopped at a desk located in front of Granger's. Slughorn's smile broadened, and he had a sly glint in his eye as he looked at the names on the list. "Ah, the famous rivalry of Gryffindor and Slytherin." He chuckled and began to read the names off the list, whilst Draco held his breath. "Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy."

Draco stayed where he was, feeling a bit uneasy at this situation. It seemed the rest of the class shared his uneasy feelings, along with anticipation, because no one moved as they darted their eyes back and forth between the aforementioned Slytherin and Gryffindor, desperate to see every last bit of their reaction.

After a moment of staring with wide eyes and hitched breath, Draco finally got up and moved to his new location. Potter followed soon after, giving side-long glances at him. Draco ignored every single one of them, keeping his eyes trained on the front of the room. A flash of red caught his eye, however, and he found that Weasley and his partner were two desks in front of him. Weasley met Draco's eyes, and raised a subtle eyebrow. Draco sneered rather harshly and looked away, but not before catching the ghost of a smirk on Weasley's lips.

Draco risked a quick glance at his partner, who was apparently looking at him from the corner of his eye. Once again, they held uncomfortable eye-contact, but Draco found himself unable to look away. Potter looked at Draco solely with curiosity, no hint of loathing what-so-ever. Draco forced his eyes away from green ones and to the front of the classroom. _So much for avoiding Potter._

From the desk behind him, Hermione watched this odd and unfimiliar exchange between her best friend and her former school enemy. She smirked to herself, thinking of how her new location gives her a huge advantage. It's quite obvious the two don't loathe each other anymore, and Professor Slughorn has just unknowingly given them an opportunity to form a... new relationship. And Hermione can watch all of it.

 **So, I've decided that I'm not going to make this a two shot. It'll still likely be short, but there's just so much I want to put into this story. Somewhere in the chapters to follow, there might be something to do with Amortentia, but I haven't decided yet. Anyways, I hope this chapter wasn't too boring for you, and I'm really trying to make these chapters longer.**

 **Please review, favorite, and follow (if you like it of course.) As a young writer, I need honesty! Until next chapter, my Drarry shippers!**


	3. Light Hits Diamond

Disclaimer: Unfortanately, you'll never see my name on any of the Harry Potter books. Unless you steal one of my personal copies, then you might.

oOo

 **Ron**

Ron sat in his seat, two desks in front of Harry's and Malfoy's. He strategically kept his head at an angle to where he could watch the two without Laney noticing. Harry and Malfoy never spoke more than three words at a time, and even then it was "back off" or "stop doing that". Malfoy kept his eyes glued to the Mandrake leaves he was cutting, while Harry watched him intently. It was odd, really; an outsider would think that _Harry_ fancied _Malfoy,_ instead of the contrary. The tension radiating from the area was quite obvious, if Ron was being truthful. Harry kept his vision firm on Malfoy's hands; he seemed genuinely fascinated by them, though Ron could not tell why. Malfoy's body was very tense, probably from such close proximity to Harry, and his chair was scooted as far away as possible. If Harry noticed, he didn't make any indication.

"Potter, can you _please_ stop staring at me? It's unnerving." A light flush spread across Harry's cheeks, Ron observed, but he quickly gained composure and retorted, "Maybe I wouldnt if you let me cut some." Harry reached to grab some of the Mandrake leaves to cut, and his hand (from what Ron could see) very nearly brushed against Malfoy's, causing Malfoy to tense and stop moving. His face turned rose-pink and he huffed to himself, before snatching the leaves back. "No. I don't trust that you have the skill and precision to cut them correctly." Harry only frowned, but didn't speak back; Harry didn't react much to Malfoy's taunting anymore, Ron noticed.

Malfoy seemed to notice Harry's silent retreat as well, because he raised an eyebrow to himself and frowned, as if confused as to why there was no reaction. But Harry was back to staring interestedly at his partner's working hands, seemingly unbothered by Malfoy's condescending tone.

As wrong as it may be, Ron was truly amused at Malfoy's discomfort; he was obviously very nervous around Harry, knowing that one wrong move and Ron would likely expose him. Ron enjoyed being in control over Malfoy... not in the kinky way. Eww. Ron assumed it was pent-up anger from over seven years he felt for the git that was making him so mean. He would never have another chance to take revenge on him after this year; Malfoy would _finally_ be out of his life. And, in comparison to everything Malfoy had ever done to him and his friends, Ron wasn't doing anything _too_ wrong.

Malfoy seemed to feel a pair of eyes on him (other than Harry's), because he looked away from the Mandrake leaves and straight up to Ron. Ron quickly averted his gaze to Laney, pretending he hadn't been paying the least bit attention to Harry and Malfoy. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Malfoy scowl at him. He _needs_ to stop scowling, or he'll get wrinkles. Ron had felt bad at first for taking advantage of Malfoy under Veritaserum, but with each dirty look from the Slytherin, that guilt steadily faded.

When Malfoy finally looked back down to what he was cutting, Ron risked another glance in his direction. Harry was still staring at Malfoy's tensed form, and Ron didn't think he'd seen him more interested in anything since the Final Battle.

Behind Harry, however, Ron's eyes locked with deep brown ones; the eyes whom belonged to Hermione Granger. Hermione seemed to have been watching Harry and Malfoy as curiously as Ron, mentally noting each word and gesture shared between the two.

"Ronnie, could you show me how to cut these leaves?" Laney pulled Ron's hands onto her own, indicating for him to move them the correct way. Ron looked back to find Hermione glaring down at her leaves while she jerked the knife across them, a deep red sitting on her face. He looked warily at the flirty Slytherin, wondering to himself what-ever happened to Slytherin subtlety?

oOo

 **Harry**

Harry could not keep himself from staring at Malfoy's tense figure as the blade in his hand glided graciously across the leaves. He studied Malfoy's characteristics; his silky white-blond hair was just slightly longer than that of sixth year, carelessly swept back behind his ears with two strands dangling lazily over his forehead. Harry also observed that his cheeks were a pleasant shade of rosey pink, no longer ghostly white as they had been in the previous years. His face no longer had jagged edges, either; his features were fuller and healthier, much to Harry's satisfaction. Malfoy was still very skinny, but indeed healthier. His posture was always elegant, as he never slouched, but it wasn't an arrogant type of elegance. His eyes were beautifully transparent, as if looking into deep pools of water. Harry was sure they would classify as diamonds when light hit them. Harry could not honestly say that he didn't find the boy beautiful. But that didn't really mean anything; he found Hermione to be quite attractive and felt absolutely no romantic feelings for her what-so-ever. Just because one found another to be stunningly attractive doesn't mean feelings are involved.

oOo

 **Draco**

Draco felt truly blessed when Potions had finally ended; he could not calm his nerves, no matter how much he'd tried. Why was Potter staring at him like that? Does he know? Taking deep breaths to hold off an inevitable panic attack, Draco jogged back to his dormitory.

Seeing as he was the only eighth year Slytherin (besides Nott), he practically had a dormitory to himself, as Nott was never there during the day. Once he hurriedly slammed the door closed behind him, he ran to his dresser, knocking things off and throwing drawers open and closed before finally finding a calming drought and downing it. He cast a spell to rearrange the mess he had made and slumped onto his bed, taking deep breaths.

His panic attacks were a pleasant gift he had gotten from the war; they were a common occurrence amongst students who had been traumatized from it. Madam Pomfrey has been giving away free calming droughts to people who suffered from this issue, so Draco decided to take a few. Of course, seeing as he's an ex-Death Eater, Pomfrey narrowed her eyes and frowned at him, but reluctantly gave him some none-the-less upon discovering that he _did_ suffer from them (the story of how she'd discovered it was... embarrassing).

His breathing and body slowly relaxed as the warm and tingling sensation spread from his spine all throughout his limbs, but that didn't stop his mind from rampaging. Potter must know - why else would he have been staring at Draco? But maybe he _didn't_ know - he certainly hadn't confronted Draco about it. Maybe Potter was to embarrassed and disgusted to say anything about it. Or Potter could have just been being his regular Saint self and was sparing Draco's feelings.

Draco sighed as he drew his legs to his chest and leaned back against the bed rest. He _hated_ how emotionally weak he was when it came to Potter. Every sliver of emotion he ever portrayed openly has always been because of Potter. Harry bloody Potter. But every emotion he felt towards Potter had been negative - up until their meeting at Malfoy Manor, when Draco was instructed to identify him. Draco hadn't known why he refused to identify him - he knew it was Harry Potter, but he couldn't just... let him die. At first, he'd thought it was because he felt guilty, which wasn't a lie; he _had_ felt guilty upon seeing the Golden Trio at the feet of Death. But when Potter risked his life to save him from the Fiendfyre, everything changed. Draco couldn't hate Potter anymore. He couldn't forget the feeling of Harry Potter's body in his arms, flying away from the threat of death. And he certainly hadn't missed that small detail where Potter _risked his bloody life_ and went straight after Draco. After that, Draco was confused about how he felt. But seeing him at the Malfoy Trials, speaking in Draco's defense, that confirmed it for Draco: his strong feelings for Potter weren't so negative anymore.

He was in a state of something similar to denial as the summer went on, but when he went back for eighth year and felt a pang of jealousy as girls swarmed Potter, he finally accepted the fact that, yes, he fancied Harry Potter.

And, in his opinion, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it, until Weasley came along with his stupid Veritaserum and ripped the carpet right out from under him. Now he was in a constant state of panic when Potter so much as _glanced in his direction,_ which seemed to happen quite often. Draco shook his head clear of the hateful thoughts towards Weasley; he didn't want to get himself so worked up again, right before lunch. Instead, he thought more about Harry Potter.

Draco had noticed how... out of it Potter seemed, nowadays. Which was to be expected, of course, seeing as he had suffered through _a lot_ of trauma and pressure that one at 18 shouldn't be subjected to. Potter always stared blankly into space, it seemed, absorbed in his own thoughts. He was much more quiet that he had been in the previous years, and he didn't focus all to well. But still he acted in a way that made him seem more grown-up, rather than severely broken and traumatized. There were, of course, rare occasions where he would see Potter laugh from across the Great Hall, but even then he was still so... distant. Disconnected from reality. Draco knew he should feel concerned for Potter's mental-health, but he rather liked this new Harry Potter; he seemed more independent, and less reliant on his friends. Perhaps that would've once been convenient for Potter, because (before they had broken up) Weasley and Granger had seemed to be in each other's world a lot, blatantly ignoring Potter's presence.

Draco slowly drew himself up and off his bed, smoothing out the ruffles on his robes. He combed his white-blond hair back in place and slid his shoes that he'd kicked off back onto his feet, before reluctantly exiting the comfort of his dorm room and heading to the Great Hall.

oOo

 **Harry**

Harry sat in the Great Hall, watching his friends converse without him. Dispite their random and out-of-the-blue breakup, the two still shared a special bond. He really didn't mind that they often discluded him from their conversations; he preferred solitude over being constantly bombarded by people, wether adoring fans or close friends. He liked to be left alone with his thoughts. Although, sometimes those thoughts would stray back to horrible memories, such as the death, blood and gore of the war, or his close friends' deaths. Sirius and Dumbledore tended to be a common variable in these types of memories. Luckily, those didn't occur as often anymore.

A glimpse of white-blonde hair pulled him out of his soon to be not-so-happy thoughts, and his eyes followed that head without Harry realizing it, until eyes from across the Great Hall met his. Bright grey. Harry drew in a sharp breath when sunlight hit those grey eyes, causing them to light up and sparkle. Harry was indeed right; Malfoy's eyes did turn into diamonds when light hit them.

They were about the brightest things in the Hall, in fact; that and the glowing hair accompanying them. Of course, Harry was the only one who noticed such things. No one else noticed the magnificence of those diamonds. No one ever turned their head to even glance at the blonde. Only Harry. But they didn't see what Harry did.

Malfoy looked away after a moment, the light never leaving them. His pale skin tinted a soft pink, and Harry found that he couldn't tear his eyes away from the boy, not even when Ron nudged him gently on the shoulder.

"You alright, mate?" asked Ron, watching his friend carefully, who seemed to be totally lost in thought. Harry didn't look at Ron, but mutely nodded, his attention fixed on something from across the Great Hall. Ron cast a concerned look at Hermione, before following Harry's gaze. It appeared that Harry was staring at a flushed Malfoy, who was looking down at his plate and fiddling with his fork uncomfortably. Ron looked back to Harry, who was still staring at Malfoy, yet simultaneously fiddling with his own fork.

oOo

That night, Harry fell soundly asleep, the image of sparkling diamonds lingering in his mind.

oOo

 **Hermione**

The next day in Potions, Hermione's attention was fixed on Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. She watched how Harry shamelessly stared at Malfoy; Malfoy shyly side-glancing at Harry; Harry shooting small yet bright smiles at Malfoy; Malfoy blushing fiercely (you would think that having watched him do that already repeatedly, you'd be used to it by now, but it was still very odd). This seemed to be the routine between the two today. 

Hermione tried focus on the lesson, she really did, but she couldn't help but stare at the boys in front of her, and wonder: What was Harry feeling? She, of course, already knew that Malfoy fancied Harry (it was quite obvious, judging by his rose-stained face), but the small smiles from Harry kept circling back to the same question. What was Harry feeling?

Hermione could _swear_ she saw Professor Slughorn look in the boys' direction and smile, more than once, as he taught the class about the "Patronus Potion".

oOo

 **Slughorn**

As Horace stood infront of the seventh and eighth year Gryffindors and Slytherins, his attention repeatedly strayed towards one desk in particular: the desk belonging to Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. He didn't fail to notice the small smiles Harry would give Draco, or how Draco was constantly pink in the cheeks. 

Horace knew his plan was working, no doubt about that, but to what extent would his plan work, exactly?

oOo

 **A/N: My apologies for such a late chapter! I hope you didn't think I was abandoning this, because I swear I'm not. I'm on a role with this, in fact, and am going straight from this chapter to the next chapter.**

 **I'm also sorry if the last few paragraphs are centered, but my phone's being an absolute bitch and won't let me change it.**

 **I'm thinking of doing a minor character death, btw, a character that's not mentioned in this story yet but is (a lot) in the real books. So expect some more angst soon (possibly, IDK).**

 **Also, expect a lot of one shots or other stories soon, because I've been having bursts of story ideas lately. They all have Harry and Draco in it, but not all of them are romantic.**

 **Anyways, thanks for your reviews, they make me happy! Leave more (remember: Honesty is the best policy!) and favorite if you like what you read! Until next time, my Drarry shippers.**


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